


The Sincerest Form of Flattery

by luvhandlz (lamardeuse)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-27
Updated: 2010-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/luvhandlz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure crack, with action figures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sincerest Form of Flattery

**Author's Note:**

> Note from lamardeuse: This is not written by me, but by my partner, who shares my love of SGA.

“It looks like I’m eating a hamburger!” sulked Rodney.

John plopped bonelessly into a chair across the table. “What’s he complaining about now?” he asked the rest of the team.

Teyla smiled her benign smile. John noticed that the more annoying Rodney got, the more serene Teyla became. “Rodney is upset about his image,” she replied.

“We’ve been here two and a half years, and Rodney has behaved like a jerk in front of practically everyone. Now he’s worried about his image?”

“No, no, no, not _that_ image…do people really think I’m a jerk?”

Ronon rumbled something under his breath. Teyla elbowed him in the ribs surreptitiously.

“No, John, he means a religious image. A figurine.” Teyla had successfully defused any future unpleasantness with her usual smooth approach.

John picked up a six-inch-long doll from the table. “It’s an action figure…hey, it’s me. Cool!”

In his hand lay a perfect replica of himself, right down to the – yup – sheath knife hanging down his ass. It was made of wood and had a cloth uniform. “They even got the right sag to my BDUs,” John said with undisguised glee. It even had a set of small accessories: an accurized Colt, a P90, some smoke grenades, and a package of Certs.

“Sure, you’re happy with _yours_.” Rodney thrust his figurine in John’s face. “You don’t look like Wimpy.”

“Is that a burrito in its hand?” John smirked.

“No, it’s – a calculator!”

“No, I’m sure that’s one of those frozen burritos. Remember, Ronon, about two months ago, when Rodney got the squitters from too many ‘Memories of Tijuana?’”

Rodney puffed himself up for a retort when Teyla again redirected the boys’ attention. “They are religious fetishes from PX-2322. They are meant to do us great honor.”

“Then why did they make me look like such a glutton?” Rodney said with a trace of whine.

John ignored Rodney and tried several heroic poses with his figure. He picked up the replica Ronon and engaged in a noisy firefight. The Ronon doll twitched dramatically and plunged to its death into Ronon’s empty cereal bowl.

“John, the elders of the Temple of Eternal Somnolence wanted us to have these by way of thanks.” Teyla watched Ronon pick his doll out of the bowl. It had perfectly carved dreads and an expression that was pure Ronon.

“It looks like you’re about to skull-fuck a Wraith,” chuckled John.

Without changing his blank expression, Ronon bit the head off his doll and chewed it. “Needs salt,” was all he said.

  
Over the next month, team action figures, as they were being called, started appearing mysteriously around Atlantis. John thought it was funny until he noticed that most were Teylas and Ronons; Chucknician had a Teyla on his control panel, the female Marines had Ronons on top of their lockers. In the science lounge, there was a Rodney pinned to the notice board. It had a lot of pins in it. He couldn’t find a John for the life of him, though.

Then, by accident, he saw one in the open locker of the new second lieutenant. He was from Iowa and had a slight acne problem, but was otherwise a nice guy. The doll was naked except for a pair of skivvies. John didn’t really want to think about where the guy had gotten a miniature pair of his purple striped boxers.

Teyla and Ronon, typically, said nothing, but Rodney was becoming more agitated every day. “I found this one in the medlab hanging head-down in a specimen cup!”

“That makes two hangings, one burning, and three blunt traumas,” added Ronon, helpfully.

“Don’t forget the one that clogged the VIP toilet,” said John absently.

“We have to do something about this.” Rodney smacked his palm dramatically. Uncharacteristically, John agreed with him.

“It takes away from our command authority,” he explained. Teyla just smiled her Sphinx-like smile.

Later, in the hall, Ronon took John by the arm and said quietly, “You’re not worried about your ability to command a team. What’s really bothering you?”

“You have to swear a blood oath before I tell you,” said John. Ronon reached behind his head and pulled out a small dagger; he made to cut himself, but John grabbed him by the arm before he could follow through. “Stop, stop! Do you have to be so literal all the time? Who do you think you are, Mr. Spock?” John looked furtively up and down the corridor. “If you have to know, I found these on my bunk.” He held up a Rodney and a John with their pants around their ankles. They were anatomically correct – hugely so in John’s case. “Wanna see the accessories?” asked John disgustedly. In his other hand were three tiny candles, a miniature Barry White album, and what appeared to be a tube of –

“Toothpaste!” said John.

  
Finally, Elizabeth stepped in. “Would SGA-1 report to my office, please?”

“She sounds like my junior high principal,” said Rodney, as the team made its way up the stairs.

“Please sit down.” Elizabeth stood with her back to the team, fiddling with one of the dumb knick-knacks on her desk. She turned and addressed John. “I’ve decided to – ”

“I know, it’s about those action figures,” John said, cutting her off. “I know you think it’s me, but I only brought in a dozen Johns,” he sputtered indignantly.

“That’s not what I want to tell you at all.”

John sheepishly kicked at a leg of the table. Elizabeth could always make him feel like he was twelve and not bright with it.

“I had planned to tell you that your problems were over. I found out who was responsible for all these figurines, and they’re taking them back right now.”

She was interrupted by a call from control. “Doctors Beckett and Zelenka are ready to leave for PX-2322. They want to know if they have to leave all the boxes just outside the Gate, or can they bring them back to the temple for a refund?”

Elizabeth sighed dramatically. “This place doesn’t need a diplomat, it needs a wet nurse.”

**Author's Note:**

> First published September 2007.


End file.
